They carried Cage into the infirmary, setting him down on the same examination table they'd laid Kyra's friend out on not all that long ago. The problem became immediately apparent as they got him onto his back. He'd been shot through the stomach and, judging from his pale pallor, he'd lost a tremendous amount of blood.
Kyra peeled away the torn, bloodied remains of uniform around his midsection while Greg opened up the medical kit. Kyra inspected the wound for several seconds with an intense frown on her face. After what felt like ages, she seemed to come to a decision. She turned and made her way deeper into the infirmary.
"The bullet went through." She pried open a medical cabinet and hunted through the abundance of equipment within.
At least, Greg thought while he waited, this time we have proper lighting. Overhead, the lights hummed with power. Kyra made the rough approximation of a happy noise and strode back over to the examination table. She held a small device in her hand, something Greg didn't recognize, and stuck it into Cage's arm.
She pressed a button. A second passed, followed by a soft chime.
"Greg, go over to that cold storage unit. There should be containers of blood. Bring me B Positive."
Greg hurried over to where she indicated, feeling nervous and out of his element. Basic medical procedures had been salvaged from the murky depths of his memories, but anything beyond that escaped him. He popped open the door and hunted through the packets until he found one with B+ printed on it, grabbed it, and hurried back across the room.
Kyra had set up a stand for the blood to hang from and now slipped a needle into Cage's arm. Greg handed her the packet of blood and watched her work, impressed with how competent and deft her hands were. She hung the blood and got it going, feeding it into Cage's system. That task complete, she turned her attention to the wound. It was obvious that the man had attempted to do a quick patch job himself, but he either hadn't had enough material or time. Kyra worked quickly, cleansing the wound, and then patching it on both sides and injecting him with something.
When she finished, she ran a scan over him with another handheld device. After several moments of silent consideration, she set it aside and let out a long breath, as if she'd been holding it for the entire procedure.
"He'll be fine...for now, but this is really just a patch job. We'll have to get him somewhere with a real medical bay eventually. No major organs were hit, at least," she said.
Greg gave a nervous laugh and felt a bit of tension drain out of him. He rubbed at his face and winced. Several cuts and scrapes had collected there while he was being pushed into the dirt. Kyra frowned and collected more medical supplies.
"Hold still." She came at him with a sterilization pad.
He hissed in a sharp breath at the sting of antiseptics.
Kyra huffed out a little laugh. "Don't be a baby." She continued, focused on her work, running the pad across the wound several times.
"It can't be that dirty."
Kyra sighed. "Someone was stepping on your head, grinding it into the ground. It's filthy. Now hold still."
She worked for a few seconds more until she seemed satisfied that his cuts were clean, then went about bandaging them.
"So...those guys...you knew them?" Greg asked quietly.
Kyra hesitated, and finally nodded. "They showed up at my outpost..." She took a deep breath, and let it out. "Like I said earlier, I got control of everyone at my outpost...everyone left alive, anyway. Then they showed up. That group of assholes. They cut us down. Killed the men, and prepared to rape the women. They never got the chance. More zombies showed up. Still don't know how the bastards snuck up on us, but they were everywhere. Me and Tom were the only ones to make it out. He was another technician, worked with me a lot. Heh, he, I think..." Kyra trailed off, her eyes misty, staring off across the room.
YOU ARE READING
The first novel in The Shadow Wars. How terrifying would it be to wake up with no memories? How much worse would it get if you happened to be in a crashed vessel full of corpses? For Greg Bishop, this nightmare has just become a reality. With nothin...